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Monday, August 22, 2022

Blog Tour- PAOLA SANTIAGO AND THE SANCTUARY OF SHADOWS by @tehlorkay With An Excerpt & #Giveaway! @DisneyBooks, @rickriordan, & @RockstarBkTours

I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the PAOLA SANTIAGO AND THE SANCTUARY OF SHADOWS by Tehlor Kay Mejia Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

 

About the Book

Title: PAOLA SANTIAGO AND THE SANCTUARY OF SHADOWS (Paola Santiago #3)

Author: Tehlor Kay Mejia

Pub. Date: August 2, 2022

Publisher: Rick Riordan Presents

Formats: Hardcover, eBook, Audiobook

Pages: 352

Find it: GoodreadsAmazonKindle, Audible, B&N, iBooks, Kobo, TBD, Bookshop.org

Best-selling author Rick Riordan presents Tehlor Kay Mejia's third chilling story based on Mexican folklore. This time Paola Santiago faces El Cucuy, aka the Boogeyman.

"Paola Santiago is a whip-smart Latina who dares to explore the shadows between folklore and middle-school friendship. A thrilling adventure."--Nina Moreno, author of Don't Date Rosa Santos

Paola Santiago has recently returned from Oregon, where she defeated the Hitchhiker ghost and saved her father from the vengeful spirit that was possessing him. The poor girl deserves a rest! But first she has to rescue Dante from the void, where he’s been imprisoned by some unknown force. Even though Dante has turned against Pao, she can’t just leave him there--they’ve been friends for too long.

Paola’s prophetic dreams seem to have dried up, so she has to find other ways to locate a new rift where she can enter the void. Signs point to Texas--but how is she going to get there from Arizona? It just so happens that Emma’s new group of politically active friends, the Rainbow Rogues, are planning a field trip to San Antonio. It’s the perfect ruse for Paola, if she can stand being with the judgmental girls for that many days. . . .

Relying on her wits, training from the Ninos de la Luz, and the emotional support of her best friend Emma, Pao makes it into the void. Once there she must face down not just one but two enemies: El Cucuy, the bogeyman . . . and someone even scarier who looks a lot like Pao herself.

This third exciting journey into Mexican folklore has our lovable, intrepid protagonist making discoveries both wonderous and fearsome.

Grab the first 2 books in the PAOLA SANTIAGO now!

Book 1 is FREE with a Kindle Unlimited Subscription!

 

 

ONE

Poor Patrick

“You got this, Pao!” 

“Take him down!” 

“On your left!” 

Paola Santiago barely heard the noise of the small crowd  as she faced down her opponent. He was already missing an  arm, his head was tragically lopsided, and he moved in the  jerky, unpredictable way Pao had come to associate with drunk  people—or toddlers who really needed a nap. 

Despite his erratic movements, Pao tightened her grip on  her Arma del Alma, a long, shining staff with a viciously bladed  end. Let your opponent come to you, said her father’s voice in her  head. Let them expend their energy circling and crossing the space  and striking. Be still water, ready to ripple or wave. Wasting nothing. 

Her opponent had almost reached her, and every part of  Pao screamed that she should strike now—leap across the space  and finish the job of severing his wobbling head. But instead  she waited like still water, until finally, finally she was allowed  to rush forward and stab through the neck. Then she heard the  satisfying crunch that meant his head had hit the ground. 

Pao felt no remorse, only victory, as she lifted her sweaty face, pushed her bangs back, and waited for her well-deserved  accolades. 

“Oh no!” 

“Poor Patrick!” 

“Someone get some tape, stat!” 

Three Niños rushed past Pao in a blur as she groaned, sinking  onto the concrete floor. Her magical staff was already shrinking  of its own accord into a travel-size magnifying glass she could fit  in her pocket. 

“Well, I thought it was impressive,” said a voice from behind  her, and Pao turned with a smile to see her best friend Emma  Lockwood approaching with a water bottle, her eyes dancing  with laughter. 

“These milk drinkers wouldn’t know impressive if it cut  off their heads,” Pao grumbled, taking the water gratefully and  chugging half of it before dumping the rest on her sweaty neck. 

“If you wanted the Niños to be on your side, you probably  shouldn’t have named the sparring dummy,” Emma said as they  surveyed the scene. 

The ragtag group of kids and teenagers who called themselves Los Niños de la Luz were already on her side, Pao knew.  And, as her town’s protectors against the monstrous creatures of  the void, they were important allies to have. 

Not just for their warehouse headquarters, either. Though it  was pretty awesome. The rafters in its ceiling were nearly thirty  feet above their heads. The glossy concrete floor was painted  and taped with complicated diagrams of footwork, advances,  and retreats, all color-coded according to types of creature. Best  of all, it was in a part of town far from any prying eyes. Ideal for  monster-hunting practice.

Of course, at the moment, the only creature in sight was  an old dummy on a rolling cart. And he was currently missing  a head. 

“Patrick,” Pao said, rolling her eyes at her own folly. “What  kind of a name is Patrick for a monster anyway?” “Hey, there are a lot of Patricks in the world,” Emma replied.  “I’m sure at least some of them are monsters.” 

Pao couldn’t argue with that, so she got to her feet and  walked over to a section of school gym bleachers that her friend  Naomi had “liberated” from Silver Springs High. Then she  flopped down, her muscles burning from a long day of training. 

“How do you feel?” Emma asked, her eyes x-raying Pao. They  looked even bluer than usual against her pumpkin-orange sweatshirt. Despite the fact that it was still over a hundred degrees in  Silver Springs, Emma was determined to show her fall spirit. 

Pao thought about changing the subject to actual pumpkins,  or costumes, or Halloween baking or crafts, all subjects she knew  would distract the girl in front of her. But she’d never been able  to lie to Emma, or avoid her questions for long, so she told the  truth. As much of it as she could bear to say out loud, anyway. 

“I’m frustrated,” she said, kicking her white sneakers against  the bench. “I’m restless. I can take Patrick’s head off fifteen times  a day, and it’s not gonna get us any closer to rescuing Dante.” 

At the sound of their ex–best friend’s name, Emma went  quiet for a moment, and Pao knew she was remembering things,  too. Things like the trailer laboratory the two of them had  found in the middle of the Oregon forest last winter. And the  man inside, who’d been Pao’s long-lost father and not her father  all at once. 

Pao had told Emma everything, of course. All the gory details Emma hadn’t seen while she waited outside the trailer.  About finding out La Llorona was not only the ghost-deity Pao  had defeated in the void, she was also Pao’s grandmother

That part had taken a little explaining. See, after drowning  her three children in the river, La Llorona had found a way to  bring them back to life by merging their souls with those of  living victims. Her twisted experiment had only worked on her  second son, Beto, which, Pao discovered, was her father’s true  identity. 

Only, the experiment (like most things La Llorona did) had  gone pretty horribly wrong. Beto had run away in horror from  his mother, changed his name, and tried to bury his past. But  over time the soul his was bound to—a boy victim of La Llorona’s  named Joaquin—started to become more dominant . . . and  resentful. 

Eventually, Joaquin had hatched a plan to use Pao’s connection to the void to tear open its fabric and let out every  loathsome creature inside to feed on the living. Luring her to  the forest by using Dante as bait . . . 

Working with Beto, Pao had managed to free Joaquin’s soul,  put an end to his awful plot, and get her friends back to safety.  All except Dante, who, fed by his own jealousy and anger, had  gone willingly into the void and remained there. 

Even with the Niños’ centuries of knowledge about the void  and its inhabitants, her father’s memories of Joaquin’s machinations, and Pao’s own growing desperation to smash her way into  that terrible place by whatever means necessary, they still hadn’t  managed to rescue him. It had already been eight months. “We’re going to find him,” Emma said at last, putting a hand on Pao’s shoulder. “You said yourself that whoever is keeping  Dante wouldn’t want to give up the leverage they have over you  by killing him, so it’s just a matter of—” 

“Of finding a way in,” Pao said, almost to herself. She had  fallen asleep repeating that truth to herself over and over every  night since January. But the months kept going by, and Pao’s  faith in her own understanding of the situation was flagging by  the day. 

Joaquin had told her, while tied to a chair in his trailer lab,  that the void wanted her, La Llorona’s granddaughter, who had  twice defied its soldiers, who had snatched three living souls  from its depths and was determined to take a fourth. But if the  void wanted her so bad, why hadn’t it shown her how to enter it  again? Why wasn’t it using Dante to lure her back? 

She hadn’t had a single vision of its ghost-riddled depths  since she’d returned from Oregon. Not one. And she couldn’t  help but wonder why her dreams, the connection that had  allowed her to save her friends and family before, had deserted  her now, at this crucial juncture. 

Though Pao didn’t exactly want to be the descendent of an  evil ghost woman who had drowned countless children, or to  belong, in part, to the spooky, monster-ridden place that had  given her power, she couldn’t help feeling a little abandoned. 

Not that she could ever admit that to Emma. Or anyone else. “It’s my dad, mostly,” Pao said when the silence had stretched  out a beat longer than she could stand. “He wants to act like I’m  just this normal kid, like I shouldn’t be getting involved with  paranormal stuff, even though I saved his life by getting involved  with it. I wish he would just let me be who I am.”

Before Emma could get to one of the fourteen solutions to  this problem she had undoubtedly brainstormed in the past ten  seconds, Pao’s stomach grumbled, and they both laughed. 

“Come on,” Emma said, getting to her feet, the bleachers  groaning under her bright green sneakers with the rainbow  laces. “Let’s get out of here. Ice cream? Pizza?” 

As much as Pao wanted to hold on to her frustration, to  sit here and stew, the appeal of a pizza was pretty undeniable.  “Okay,” she relented. “But first I have to talk to the biggest jerk  in Arizona. Wait for me outside?” 

“I’ll be the one with the sparkly purple bike.” 

When Pao opened the door to the warehouse’s attached office,  Franco was sitting in front of what appeared to be a super-old  computer, but Pao knew it was an invention of her father’s—a  machine that could read magical signatures and measure the  intensity of the energy they gave off. 

Hopefully the computer couldn’t measure the waves of irritation coming off Pao, because she thought the strength of them  would probably break it. 

“Franco,” she said when it became clear he wasn’t going to  acknowledge her presence beyond a wary glance. “Find anything new?” 

“I’m sure Beto would have told you if we had,” he said curtly. “I . . . He’s not really . . . I’m asking you,” Pao stammered,  feeling her face heat up. You’d think that living with a man  who’d been studying the paranormal for both of his lives would  have put her at the forefront of the Niños’ activities, but Pao had  been relegated to perpetual trainee. Which meant fighting dummies and having her questions constantly brushed aside.

Franco didn’t answer at first, just stabbed the buttons on the  field unit in his hand a little harder than Pao felt was necessary.  But she’d learned from months in this grumpy boy’s company  that he could never resist the urge to talk about his work for  long, so she waited, counting down from ten in her head. 

When she got to six, he pushed back from the desk with a  huff. “The whole map’s a blank! I thought the thing in B.C. was  an anomaly, but every known entrance to the void that we’ve  mapped in the past fifty years is gone. Just disappeared.” 

Pao stilled at the mention of Canada. It had been their first  trip after they returned from saving Beto. An expedition to  the only known void entrance on the West Coast—besides the  Gila River one Pao and her friends had destroyed the summer  before. Based on Pao’s dreams, Beto and Franco had been sure  the machines were misreading things, that the void entrance  would be there even though no evidence of it could be seen. 

They’d all been so hopeful, she remembered. So sure they  would get through. That they’d bring Dante back, and this  whole nightmare would be over. They’d prepared for months,  and Pao had brandished her Arma del Alma without a doubt in  her mind, the still-chilly March winds cutting through her sad  excuse for a winter coat. 

Most of the Niños had been forced to stay behind, their  status as lost, escaped, forgotten, or otherwise fugitive children  making it difficult for them to travel, so Pao, her father, and  Franco (who’d been a smug teenager for a hundred years now)  had made their way through the snowy woods outside British  Columbia to find . . . 

Nothing. 

No liminal space. No monsters. No evidence—besides a black scorch mark on the ground—that there’d ever been a portal to the malevolent underworld there. 

To cover his disappointment, Franco had tried asking the  locals living near the void entrance about what had happened,  but everyone they’d approached had, frustratingly, clammed up  instantly at the sight of them. They all categorically denied that  they’d ever seen, heard, or experienced anything strange. 

That was when, Pao remembered, Franco had started looking at her differently. 

And maybe it was also when her dad had started his all training/no-telling-Pao-anything protocol. 

Now Pao wanted to growl like a feral animal, or at least  hit something that wasn’t headless Patrick. Instead she waited  as Franco looked at her with that distrustful, suspicious expression. She tried to avoid it by studying the walls covered in maps,  notes, and theories that had been crossed out one by one. 

“Any chance it’s the instruments malfunctioning?” she asked,  just to break the horrible silence between them that seemed to  be growing fangs by the second. 

“It’s not the instruments that can’t be trusted,” he said coldly,  turning his back in clear dismissal, and Pao left the office feeling  like she always did after an interaction with Franco—like she  was somehow contaminated. Like she’d failed to live up to even  his low expectations of her. 

“Pipsqueak?” The voice drifted across the massive parking lot  before Pao could turn the corner that would lead her to Emma.  The sky beyond the warehouse was almost dark, the days get ting shorter now that winter was on its way again. “Hey, Naomi,” Pao said, not bothering to disguise her bad mood. Naomi, the queen of bad moods, could hardly hold it  against her. 

“Isn’t it past your bedtime? Papi Precioso must be waiting.” Pao rolled her eyes as she approached. Naomi was sitting on  the concrete steps out front, smirking down at her. “What? Trouble behind the white picket fence?” Naomi’s  tone was teasing, but after the two of them had traveled hundreds of miles together, traversed a haunted forest, and fought  more than one warped fantasma together, Pao could tell there  was a grudging respect beneath her casual mocking. “It’s fine,” Pao said, shaking her head. “Just sick of being  treated like a baby all the time.” 

“I’ve been saying it since the beginning, tourist,” Naomi said,  eyeing Pao with that surprisingly adept intuition of hers. “Once  you cross over, it’s hard to go back to normal life.” 

Pao was quiet for a long minute, appreciating the fact that  Naomi did not insist on filling every moment with chatter.  Emma, as much as Pao loved her, had never met a problem she  couldn’t immediately offer several solutions for, and sometimes  Pao just needed to stew. 

“It’s just . . .” Pao said at last. “Dad expects me to be so grateful he’s here. He says I don’t need to worry anymore, that he  and Franco can take care of everything. But where would either  of them be if I hadn’t taken charge? Why does he want to force  me back into a life I don’t fit into anymore?” 

Naomi got to her feet, offering Pao a high five as she turned  toward the warehouse door. “Look, Beto’s not a bad guy, from  what I’ve seen. But you know how I feel about Franco, and about  men and their I’ve got this under control, little girl crap in general. 

If you want to go after hero boy yourself, you know I’m on your  right.” 

“Thanks,” Pao said, not trusting herself to say more. The  fact that Naomi would be willing to follow her out into the fray  again, even after all that had befallen them on their last attempt  to join forces, meant more than Pao was willing to admit at the  moment. 

And Pao would have taken her up on the offer, she realized.  In a heartbeat. If only she had any idea where to begin.

 

 

About Tehlor Kay Mejia:

TEHLOR KAY MEJIA is a bestselling and award winning author of young adult and middle grade fiction.

Her debut young adult novel, WE SET THE DARK ON FIRE, received six starred reviews, as well as the Oregon Spirit Book Award for debut fiction, and the Neukom Institute Literary Arts Award runner up honor for debut speculative fiction. It has been featured on Seventeen, Cosmopolitan, and O by Oprah Magazine’s best books lists, and was a 2019 book of the year selection by Kirkus and School Library Journal. Its sequel, WE UNLEASH THE MERCILESS STORM, followed to continuing acclaim, while MISS METEOR (co-written with National Book Award Nominee Anna-Marie McLemore) was named to the American Library Association’s 2021 Rainbow List, honoring outstanding contributions in LGBTQIA teen fiction.

Tehlor’s debut middle grade novel, PAOLA SANTIAGO AND THE RIVER OF TEARS, was published by the Rick Riordan Presents imprint at Disney/Hyperion. It received four starred reviews, and was named Amazon’s best book of 2020 in the 9-12 age range. It is currently in development at Disney as a television series to be produced by Eva Longoria.

Tehlor lives with her daughter, partner, and two small dogs in Oregon, where she grows heirloom corn and continues her quest to perfect the vegan tamale. She is active on Twitter and Instagram @tehlorkay. 

Website | Twitter | Instagram | TikTok | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub


Giveaway Details:

1 winner will receive a finished copy of PAOLA SANTIAGO AND THE SANCTUARY OF SHADOWS, US Only.

Ends September 6th, midnight EST.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Schedule:

Week One:

8/1/2022

@allyluvsbooksalatte

IG Post

8/2/2022

Author Z. Knight's Guild

Excerpt

8/3/2022

Ya Books Central

Excerpt

8/4/2022

BookHounds YA

Excerpt/IG Post

8/5/2022

#BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee Blog

Excerpt

8/6/2022

laura's bookish corner

Review/IG Post

Week Two:

8/7/2022

Lifestyle of Me

Review/IG Post

8/8/2022

hauntedbybooks

Review/IG Post

8/9/2022

BookBriefs

Review/IG Post

8/10/2022

xbookwormcafe

Review/IG Post

8/11/2022

Feed Your Fiction Addiction

Review/IG Post

8/12/2022

The Momma Spot

Review/IG Post

8/13/2022

One More Exclamation

Review/IG Post

Week Three:

8/14/2022

A Dream Within A Dream

Excerpt

8/15/2022

Two Points of Interest

Review/IG Post

8/16/2022

The Bookwyrm's Den

Review/IG Post

8/17/2022

Kait Plus Books

Excerpt/IG Post

8/18/2022

pluvioreads

Review/IG Post/TikTok Post

8/19/2022

The Book View

Excerpt/IG Post

8/20/2022

Lisa-Queen of Random

Excerpt/IG Post

Week Four:

8/21/2022

Eye-Rolling Demigod's Book Blog

Review/IG Post

8/22/2022

Two Chicks on Books

Excerpt

8/23/2022

@jaimerockstarbooktours

IG Post

8/24/2022

wiltedpages

Review/IG Post

8/25/2022

froggyreadteach

IG Review/Read Part of Book Out Loud

8/26/2022

A Backwards Story

Review/IG Post

8/27/2022

PopTheButterfly Reads

Review/IG Post/TikTok Post

Week Five:

8/28/2022

onemused

IG Post

8/29/2022

@lexijava

Review/IG Post

8/30/2022

@jypsylynn

Review/IG Post

8/31/2022

@drewsim12

IG Review/TikTok Post


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